


He's Not Reading Books

by orphan_account



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Drug and Alcohol Use, Lots of reference to Luke and Ash's sex life, Luke isn't, M/M, Mike and Ash and Cal are bad boys, Mikey swears a lot, Oh, So does everyone else actually, Until it turns out he is, Well Mike thinks he isn't, sort of, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 12:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1226002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At school on Monday, Luke is back in his proper uniform, and he’s taken his piercing out, and Michael starts to think the Luke at the party was a one-off thing. He prepares to shrug off the budding fondness for the blonde boy, and go back to hating him for being the school’s golden boy. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Or, the one where Michael hates the new kid at school because he's a goody-goody-two-shoes, Ashton has a hot date with a lip ring, and they turn out to be the same person. Now with bonus Lashton chapter!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. He's A Good Boy, Hasn't Been Caught

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I overdose on antibiotics because I can't afford to miss school tomorrow, and then I listen to 'Good Girls'. Shitty oneshot is shitty. Prin out.

**He's A Good Boy, Hasn't Been Caught**

See, Michael’s never really hated anyone. I mean, Ashton pissed him off majorly for the first few weeks they knew each other; the dude was, like, more hyperactive than a kid on red cordial, and he talked so fast and was so loud that Michael got a headache if he listened to him for too long. But then Calum had attacked him with those big brown puppy eyes and bribed him with pizza, and now he and Ashton got on like white on rice. So yeah, he’s never really hated anyone.

Then he meets Luke Hemmings.

Michael can’t quite put his finger on exactly what it is about the tall blonde boy that makes his skin crawl. Maybe it’s the way everyone in school instantly liked him despite the fact that he’s literally the most awkward and clumsy person Michael has ever had the misfortune to be accidentally tripped over by. Maybe it’s the shy little smile the boy flashes everyone he passes. Maybe it’s the fact that all the teachers dote on him, especially the guys in the maths and science department (Mr Gale actually _smiled_ at the kid when he got _every fucking_ question right on his first day), and maybe it’s the fact that Michael had been the only rhythm guitarist in his music class until Luke showed up three months ago.

Actually, it’s probably because he’s such a goody-goody-two-shoes.

Michael and Calum make up part of the school’s ‘bad boy’ group (Ashton kind of does, but he likes to flit between social groups like the little attention whore he is, so he’s more like an honorary member who shows up at Michael’s house with beer and video games and then eats all his food). They have tattoos and Michael dyes his hair random colours even though that’s against school rules, and Calum has been wearing band shirts instead of his school shirt since year seven, and it’s been nearly four years since Michael’s done homework, and they bad mouth teachers and swear in the corridors. If they decide they hate the new statue out the front of the school, Ashton buys them the spray paint and they get in trouble for graffiti. When they can’t be bothered staying at school once home room has finished, Ashton gives Michael his keys and they wag.

Luke is…jeez, Luke is so _good_. Michael can practically see the fucking halo and angel wings, and swears up and down he can hear a choir singing whenever the blonde stops to help Mrs Streets carry her books or when he actually picks up papers when he gets asked to. He studies. He wears the uniform properly, like, shirt tucked in, tie done up, blazer on, and everything. Probably shines his fucking shoes once a week, too. He’s a good boy, and Michael hates him.

On his part, Luke seems to hate Michael just as much. Michael can’t count the number of times he’s gone up to his locker, which is next to Ashton’s, and found the blonde boy leaning on it while he talks to the curly haired boy (because Ash is friends with fucking everyone) and he’s clammed up when Michael gets too close and then leaves. “The fuck is his problem?” Michael finally asks Ashton one day.

Ashton shrugs with this little infuriating smile on his face. “Don’t know.”

Michael hates Ashton too.

“No you don’t,” Calum laughs, and Michael curses because he said that out loud.

“Yes I do,” he snaps, turning the page of his graphic novel so angrily it nearly tears. “He’s a smug little shit and he can’t have any pizza on Friday night.” He punctuates this with little nudges to Ashton’s side where he’s stretched out on a throw rug with a closed English text book on his chest. He just giggles at Michael.

“Dude, what happened to your lip?” he asks offhandedly, because there’s a cut on Ashton’s lip that wasn’t there yesterday and it’s annoying him.

Ash touches the cut, and Michael swears he actually blushes. “Made out with a guy and got cut on his lip ring.”

“That’s charming,” Calum interrupts. “And we’re going out on Friday night, so there won’t be pizza anyway,” he adds on, dragging them back to the pizza debate, briefly looking up from where he’s carefully folding a sheet of maths equations into a paper plane.

Michael sulks a bit. “We could go out to Dominos.” He curls a little further into his comfy chair and looks blankly out the window.

It’s the middle of July, and so they’re forced to stay cooped up in the library (the music rooms are closed on Tuesdays) while the weather alternates between pelting the school with rain or showering them in hail the size of marbles. Fucking winter.

Calum rolls his eyes. “Nah mate, we’re going to Harry’s party – no buts!” And, really, only an _English boy_ would have a party in the middle of winter. Seriously.

“And you’re the designated driver!” Ashton hoots, smacking Michael’s ankle.

Michael wishes Ashton was still being tutored in maths, even if it his tutor had been Luke. At least it stopped him from acting like a five year old when he got bored.

“Ow, fucker!” Michael growls, throwing a pen at Ashton’s face. “I don’t even have a licence yet; why the fuck can’t you do it?”

“ _I_ have a date that night, and we’re getting shitfaced so we can fuck in his parents’ pool,” Ashton brags, wriggling his eyebrows at them.

“TMI, Ash,” Cal groans, kicking out at the curly haired boy. “Who is it this time?”

Ashton winks. “You’ll see. And this one might be a keeper, too.”

There’s a clatter behind them as Luke Hemmings suddenly stumbles out from behind a bookshelf. He looks a little sheepish as everyone turns to stare at him. “I tried to pull a book from the bottom of the pile?” He laughs a little nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

Michael glowers at him as four different people jump up to help him fix the avalanche of books he’s just caused. If he’d done that, he’d be looking at a week’s worth of detention and cleaning his own goddam mess up.

-

Four days later and Michael has literally just finished blow-drying his brand new black and purple hair when there’s a knock at the door. He swears – he’s not even wearing pants – and decides that whoever it is can see him in all his pale, boxer-clad glory as he goes to answer.

“Your house smells like you’ve murdered someone,” Calum says, shouldering past and into the living room.

“Hello to you too,” Michael laughs, standing aside so Ashton can come in as well. “Did you guys walk here?” He frowns, why didn’t Ashton, like, _drive?_

Ash scuffs his shoe nervously. “Okay, so my date’s parents kind of hate me, just because the last time I took their baby out they walked in on us having sex.” He pops his mouth. “In their bed.”

Calum and Michael both groan. “You really are a class act, Ash,” Cal says. “Are you gonna tell us who this guy is then if you’re taking him out on a second date?”

“And why your fucking car isn’t ready to take us,” Michael adds, pulling some skinny jeans and a button up tank from the clothes horse by the heater. “I am not walking to the other side of town for this party. Especially not in this piss-poor weather.”

Ashton slumps onto the sofa beside Calum. “One, I’m not telling you who he is until we get to his house. Two, my car’s not here because you can hear it coming from a mile away and his parents threatened to castrate me if I came near their son again.”

“I’m still not walking.” Michael’s voice is muffled as he yanks his shirt over his head. “And neither of you fuckers have said anything about my hair, I did not put myself through the agony of bleach to have my newest creation ignored.”

Calum snorts. “Your hair looks wonderful, Mikey. Not quite as gay as the pink, but a better mix than the reverse skunk.”

Michael throws a sock at him, and Ashton interrupts their play fight before it even starts. “You don’t have to walk, you big baby, I rang your mum at lunch and she said we can take her car.”

“Dude, where the fuck did you get my mum’s number?”

Ashton ignores him. “Hurry up, I told him I’d be there to get him at eight!”

Michael checks his phone and sees that it’s quarter to. “Gimme a sec to find some shoes and a jacket.”

In ten minutes, the three of them are in Michael’s mum’s car and Ashton is directing Michael to his date’s house. They end up in the rather posh end of town, and the house Michael pulls up in front of could probably hold three lots of his house inside.

“ _Mate_ ,” Calum drawls. “No fucking wonder his ‘rents don’t want you taking their baby out. Who the fuck have you bagged; Luke Hemmings?!”

Ashton smiles chirpily. “Just wait!” And he pulls, of all things, an honest-to-god slide whistle out of his back pack.

“I don’t even want to know,” Michael says to Calum, watching through the rear-view mirror as Ashton exits the car and goes to stand under the second story window. He plays a little tune on the whistle, and the curtains slide open. “This is so fucking clichéd,” he grouses, and Calum snorts in agreement.

“Romeo, Romeo, where for art thou, Romeo?” Cal mocks, throwing a hand to his heart. He’s about to say more, but his voice trails off as Ashton’s date opens his window and smiles down at Ashton. “No fucking way; I was joking!”

And Luke fucking Hemmings throws a leg out his window and climbs down the drain pipe to where Ashton greets him by pulling him down into a heavy make-out session.

“Well fuck me,” Michael breathes as the two break apart, link hands, and head towards the car.

“You guys know Luke,” Ashton says, pulling the car door open. He and Luke climb inside.

Michael huffs. “This isn’t too radical for you then, princess?” And yes, he does mean for his voice to sound that harsh. He still hates Luke.

Luke laughs, and Michael didn’t even know the clumsy blonde boy could; he always seems to have a stick up his ass. “As long as this night ends in alcohol and pool sex, I’m fine.” He matches Michael’s tone, narrowing his eyes at him through the mirror.

Michael raises a hand in defence. “Okay, kitty has claws.”

Ashton jumps forwards in his seat and shakes Michael’s shoulder. “If you’ve quite finished, we have a party to be at.”

It takes them another half hour to get to Harry’s house, and Michael has yelled ‘No fornication in my car!’ six times since they left Luke’s house because Ashton can’t keep his hands (or his face) off the blonde boy. No one in the car is wearing their seat belt, including Michael, and Luke looks up from where he’s sprawled in Ashton’s lap to smirk at Michael through the mirror. “Aw, is big bad Mikey-Wikey not getting any? Poor Mikey-Wikey.”

He and Ashton high five and Cal tries to muffle his laughter in his sleeve. “Shut up,” Michael growls. “For such a goody-goody, you’re a little shit, Hemmings.”

Then they’re pulling into Harry’s already crowded drive way, and Calum drags Michael in one direction, and Ashton drags Luke in another, and that’s the last Michael sees of them for a few hours.

-

“Your hair is actually really cool.”

Michael jumps a foot in the air and drops his bottle at the sudden voice behind him. “Fuck, that was the last bottle of Boag’s!” He turns around to curse out whoever it is that made him kill his precious, and he freezes when he ends up eye to eye with a very _satisfied_ looking Luke. “Jesus, has Ash already had a go of you tonight?”

Luke smirks. “Maybe.” And that’s when Michael notices the little black ring in his lip.

“Is, is that _real?_ ” he marvels, and he’s just drunk enough to not care about personal boundaries as he reaches out and flicks the cool metal. Michael _wants_ , okay? But, like, an eyebrow piercing or something.

“Yep,” Luke pops the ‘p’ and the ring moves. Michael giggles. Fuck, he’s more than a little drunk.

“Princess has a rebellious streak.”

“Princess has a name,” Luke snaps, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His shirt that Michael recognises because he has one hanging up in his wardrobe. Well, he has one in a pile of dirty washing on the floor, but he has one none the less.

“You’re wearing a Rolling Stones shirt,” he states, drunk eyes trailing over the rest of the blonde’s slim figure. “And your jeans are ripped. Did Ashton, like, force you to dress like that?”

Luke actually looks a bit offended. “Excuse you, this happens to be how I dress normally.”

Michael has the decency to look a little shameful. “Sorry. I just assumed you spent your life in your uniform.”

Luke wrinkles his nose. “Fuck no, I hate that thing.”

“I’ve never heard you swear before.”

“Because I don’t swear at school.”

There’s an awkward silence between the two of them. “I think I may have been wrong to hate you?” Michael wonders aloud. “May have.”

Luke flashes him that shy little smile, but combined with his piercing, rumpled hair, and pretty decent clothes, it was more endearing than annoying. “I’ll take that.”

He suddenly has a very drunk Ashton draped over his back. “ _Babe,_ ” he breathes heavily in Luke’s ear. “They’ve got the bong out. I like it when you get stoned, you get so cute and cuddly.” Luke’s cheeks turn pink, and Michael thinks he might get a little more than ‘cuddly’ if the look on Ashton’s face has any meaning behind it.

“Bye Michael,” Luke calls as he’s dragged out of the room by his waist. “I’m sorry about your beer, and I really did mean what I said about your hair!”

Michael catches Ashton’s “Aww, are you two making friends?” before he goes hunting for another beer, maybe a bottle of Premium XXX or Blondie or something.

The next time he sees Luke, it’s about an hour later, and the blonde boy is having a bit of trouble walking. Michael can’t tell if it’s because he’s stoned or because he’s just had round two with Ashton. His electric blue eyes land on Michael where the purple haired boy is sprawled on a couch with a bottle of alcoholic chocolate milkshake he’s pinched out of Harry’s grog cabinet. Luke stumbles over and flops down onto Michael, curling up in his lap and nuzzling under his chin.

Michael blinks down at him. “You right there, Princess? Ash will kill me if he sees this.”

Luke giggles, and he’s so stoned Michael nearly starts laughing. “Ash told me to come snuggle you while he fishes his shirt out of the pool. He says you never get snuggled and I think that’s really sad, so here I am!” He smiles proudly, and something inside Michael melts. How could he hate this kid? He’s so cute, and he makes Ashton so happy… Fuck, Michael hates Ashton, this is all his fault.

Luke snuggles Michael in silence for a minute, and Michael ends up giving in a wrapping his arms around the blonde. It tugs his shirt a bit, and Michael gets an eyeful of the massive hickies all over Luke’s neck and shoulder. “Jesus, you’re a slut Princess. Do you let all the boys treat you like this?”

Luke giggles girlishly, but the punch he lands on Michael’s arm is anything but and Michael winces because he thinks Luke just gave him a dead arm. “Shut the fuck up, I’m being nice here. And only Ashton’s allowed to do that.”

“Sorry,” Michael laughs, not sorry at all, and he pokes a hickey that’s already starting to turn purple in the middle. “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

Luke groans. “Great. I hope Mum doesn’t see it. At least it’s cold enough to wear a scarf to school. School in the winter sucks, you know? It’s cold and wet and the teachers don’t like turning the heaters on, but when they do they smell like burning dust, which is gross…” he trails off into a tangent about Ashton’s lips Michael really didn’t want to hear.

“You’re completely baked, aren’t you, Princess?”

Luke squirms in his lap and half glares at him. “Don’ call me ‘Princess’,” he whines, his nose scrunching up again. “‘M not a girl. I’ve got a dick and everything.”

Michael is saved from dignifying that with a response when Ashton sprints around the corner and tugs Luke off him. “Cuddle time’s over, I want my Lukey back.” He scoops Luke into his arms and it looks really awkward because Luke’s a little taller than Ashton and his legs are, like, twenty feet long, but he cuddles close into Ashton anyway.

There’s a gagging from the doorway, and Michael looks over to see Calum standing there, pretending to vomit as Ashton walks away with his face attached to Luke’s.

“How does Ash plan on getting him back into his room without his parents seeing?” Cal asks Michael about twenty minutes later as they watch Ashton and Luke grope each other on an armchair in the corner. “He’s _way_ too out of it to get back up the drain pipe without either braining himself or breaking something.”

Michael laughs a bit. “Haven’t they both said something about having sex in Luke’s pool? Ash’d probably get him to his room from inside the house.”

“Oh, jeez, did _not_ need to see that!” Cal yelps, covering his eyes. Michael frowns and looks over in time to see Luke up and straddling Ashton, and he can see tongues and hands going places he doesn’t want to know about.

“Really guys?” he yells at them. No response. “You’re going for a third round?”

Ashton pulls away from Luke just long enough to flip Michael the birdie. “Just because you haven’t had any since last Christmas!”

“You said you enjoyed that!” Michael bites back, but Ashton’s gone back to tugging on Luke’s piercing with his teeth. “Fucker, I hope you swallow it and choke.”

“ _I_ hope you’re talking about Luke’s oh so rebellious lip ring,” Calum chides, nudging Michael.

Michael swats at him. “Course I am you dirty minded wanker.”

-

At school on Monday, Luke is back in his proper uniform, and he’s taken his piercing out, and Michael starts to think the Luke at the party was a one-off thing. He prepares to shrug off the budding fondness for the blonde boy, and go back to hating him for being the school’s golden boy. But then Ashton grabs the front of Luke’s blazer and slams the taller boy into Michael’s locker, and they both giggle and cling to each other when they get detention for breaking the ‘Public Displays of Indecency’ rule.

Michael manages to shove the two loved up idiots off his locker so he can get his books and stuff, and Calum shows up just in time to save him from having to listen to Ashton brag about how they got all the way up to round six before Luke pushed Ashton out his window because he needed time to recuperate.

“How do you get away with it?” Cal asks Luke at lunch when Ashton drags the blonde over to sit with them.

Luke looks at Calum, confused, as Ash manhandles him into his lap in the comfy chair they’ve claimed. “How do I get away with what?”

Calum waves his hand at Luke. “With all of it. The piercing, the boyfriend, the partying…How? You’re such a good boy publically!”

Luke winks at him as Ash winds his arms around the blonde’s tiny waist. “Good boys are bad boys that haven’t been caught.”

Luke snags the seat next to Michael in music, and they get partnered up for a song writing project. Michael tells Luke he’s already started one, and the blonde shrugs and says ‘Go for it, mate,’ and Michael spends the rest of the period scribbling away in his notebook.

They get an ‘A’ for it, of course they do. Apparently they make a really fucking good team when it comes to music shit, and their teacher thinks they’re the best thing she’s seen all year.

“That was about me, wasn’t it?” Luke asks Michael in the corridor, clutching their lyric sheet and admiring the red ink in the corner with their grade on it. “Even if you’ve changed the main character to a girl.”

Michael snorts, fishing some gum out of his bag. “Course it’s about you, Princess. We’ve known all along you weren’t exactly reading books with Ash while you were tutoring him.”

That’s a lie, but Luke doesn’t need to know that.


	2. At Least, That's What His Parents Assume

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, I finally finished this! Thanks so much to everyone who's read, given kudos, and left comments. It means a lot to me. Um, if you haven't already, go back and read the first part, because I've fixed it up a little bit. Prin out <3

**At Least, That’s What His Parents Assume**

Luke’s parents are less than helpful when it comes to advice about starting a new school. Mainly because it’s been at least twenty years since they both set foot in a high school, and, frankly, neither of them have any idea what it’s like for teenagers nowadays to be the ‘new kid’ when they’re seventeen. So Luke locks himself in his room and listens to Iron Maiden turned up really loudly, and he puts his lip ring in and lays on his bed feeling sorry for himself.

He’s dreading school tomorrow. He’s already promised his well-meaning parents that he’d be good this year – this move was a new start; a chance for Luke to be the good little boy he was raised to be instead of the rebel he grew up to be. Well, he’s not really a rebel. The lip piercing and bass amplifying stereo are about as far as he’s gotten on the rebellion scale, but it was too much for his more-money-than-sense parents, so they packed him up and moved. And now he had to go and be a little goodie-goodie two shoes, and get his head flushed down the toilet, and his books scattered across the corridor, and he really needs to stop watching clichéd American high school movies because they’re psyching him out.

Of course, his first day of school goes swimmingly, and he’s the school’s golden boy by the end of his first term there, and maybe this whole moving thing hadn’t been so bad after all. Apparently teachers really liked students who were good at maths, and who paid attention in science, and who helped carry their stuff and picked up trash in the corridors when they were asked. Who’d have thought it? And students really liked kids who were willing to help with their homework and who always had enough money to shout them lunch on Fridays when the canteen sold hot chips for two bucks a bag. The fact that he was ridiculously good looking, even without his piercing and ripped jeans, probably helped with that.

Luckily, they also thought his height-related clumsiness was endearing, not annoying like his parents thought when he tripped in the hall for the umpteenth time and the crystal vase on the sideboard got a little closer to falling off every time he landed with a thump.

About half-way through term two, Luke gets tasked with tutoring a boy in the year above, because he was being threatened with being held back a year if he failed maths. Luke is both excited and intimidated by this, because Ashton Irwin is fucking hot, but he’s also friends with Michael Clifford, and Michael Clifford scares the shit out of Luke, who may also harbour a tiny hero-worship fuelled crush on him.

Ashton Irwin is also absolutely terrible at maths, and Luke kind of spends an hour after their first session together banging his forehead against his maths textbook, because, _seriously_. Ashton Irwin has the attention span of a three year old, the memory retention of a goldfish, and the patience of a middle-aged white man using a smart phone for the first time when it comes to algebra. And they were only working on basic equations! They didn’t even need calculators!

Luke’s got his fucking work cut out for him.

-

“Dude,” Luke snaps, irritated. “Seriously. You cannot be this stupid.”

Ashton gives him that fucking infuriating grin that Luke stopped getting boners over after three tutoring sessions, and then he says, “Just go over it _once_ more. I just haven’t got the hang of it yet.”

Luke’s eye twitches. “I have explained this to you _literally_ seven times already, and then I drew you a graph, _and_ a flowchart. _A flowchart, Ashton!_ I drew you a goddamned flowchart about factorising equations and you still don’t fucking get it!” He breaks off with a huge huff of anger, and looks at Ashton for a reaction.

“Whoa.” Ashton’s eyes are big and impressed. “I’ve never heard you swear before.”

Luke starts screaming internally.

He heaves a massive sigh, and kinda gives up for the day. “Whatever. It’s half past four. I can’t deal with you anymore today. Go home and at least _try_ to do, like, half a problem, okay?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, and Ashton starts clattering around, shoving books in his bag and unearthing his car keys from under some worksheets they’ve been working on for the past two weeks.

“Bye Luke!” he chirps, giving the blonde a cheerful wave as he skips off. “You’re really hot when you swear!”

And then he’s gone, and Luke’s suddenly got an itchy blush all over his face because, despite Ashton’s apparent thick-headedness, Luke’s still managed to develop a gigantic crush on his stupid face, because Luke’s heart is just as stupid, clearly.

“Fuck,” he growls under his breath, running a hand through his hair. His lip is starting to itch; he needs to put his ring back in. Luke checks his phone. If he runs home, he’ll still get at least an hour of Luke-time before his parents get home from work.

Later, the doorbell rings while Luke is playing his guitar in the lounge room, and he props the acoustic against the couch so he can answer it.

His friendly greeting trails off into, “What the fuck are you doing here?” and, “How the fuck do you know where I live?” and, “You’ve parked your fucking car on the nature strip, my dad is going to fucking kill me,” all in one breath.

Ashton just gives him that _goddamn_ smile again, and rocks back on his heels. “Seriously, really hot when you sear. And that lip ring…mmh.” He licks his lips and leers at Luke and Luke frowns at him, going red again.

“What the hell, Ashton?” he says, because Luke’s brain is short circuiting trying to process this situation.

Ashton shrugs. “I needed your help, and my phone is dead. I was in the area, so I dropped by.” He conveniently left out the part about knowing Luke’s address, seriously, it’s always the cute, curly haired ones that end up being stalkery serial killers. Okay, no more horror movies for Luke, he doesn’t need to develop paranoia about hot people, cause that would suck bigtime for his love life. Not that he currently has one, but, not the points.

Luke blinks. “Right.” He starts to shut the door. “Bye, Ashton. I’m busy.”

Ashton’s face gets a little pleady. “No, come on, Luke!” He puts a hand on the door to stop it closing. “Fifteen minutes, and then you can throw me out on my ass.”

Luke squints at him. “Is that a promise?”

“Scout’s honour,” Ashton declares, holding up the wrong hand for the scouts and doing the Hunger Games salute.

Luke groans softly, cursing himself and his weakness for attractive boys. “Fifteen minutes,” he agrees. “And take your fucking shoes off.”

-

Ashton kicks his feet up onto the coffee table. “Okay, so I’ve kind of been pulling a Mean Girls on you,” he says, and Luke stares at him like he’s from Tasmania and has a second head.

“What? Have you been pretending to be friends with me, but secretly passing Intel to your bitchy lesbian, and too-gay to function best friends?” He nudges Ashton’s legs down. “Because your friends are scary.”

Giggling, Ashton shakes his head. “No! I wouldn’t do that. But now I’m going to be spending the rest of the day which of my friends is Janice, and which is Damien, so thanks for that. But,” he bites his lip, suddenly looking a little nervous. “What I have been doing is…” he sighs, picks up his pencil and easily finishes the last three equations in the chapter he’d been asking for help on. “Pretending to be worse at maths than I actually am so I could spend more time with you.”

Luke gapes. “Cady was really good at maths in the movie. Are you secretly really good?” And then he curses himself, because out of that whole sentence _that’s what he’s focusing on, are you fucking kidding me?_

Ashton seems to be thinking the same thing, but he still says, “Oh, dude, I’m still awful at maths. But not… _as awful_ as I’ve been making out to be.” He nods a little, taps his fingers against hit knee. “So…are you gonna say anything?”

Luke’s brain is still stuck on ‘making out’. “I’m sorry, I can’t focus on anything other than you saying ‘making out’ at the moment.” He shakes his head.

Smirking again, Ashton puts a hand on Luke’s elbow. “D’you wanna do that?” He glances down and checks his watch. “I’ve still got…six minutes before you have to kick me out.”

Luke makes an incredulous noise in the back of his throat. “Go for it.” And then Ashton’s cupping his face gently and they’re making out on the couch.

Ashton somehow gets Luke on his back, and he hovers over the blonde, both of them a mess of teeth and tongues and lips and hands. The timer on Luke’s phone goes off, and he pulls away long enough to giggle, “I’m supposed to be kicking you out on your ass now.”

And Ashton replies, “Yeah, but you’re not going to.” And then they don’t talk for a while.

A car pulls into the driveway twenty minutes later, and Luke’s head jerks automatically towards the sound. Ashton hisses and pulls back, touching a finger to his lip and pulling it back covered in beads of blood.

“Shit,” Luke says. “Sorry! Must’ve been my lip ring!” They can hear keys scraping in the lock of the front door. “And you need to leave. Like, now.” He carefully pushes Ashton off.

“Hey, _hey_ ,” Ashton grabs Luke’s arm as the younger boy scurries around packing Ashton’s stuff out. “Hey. I really like you, Luke. I wanna take you out. Can I?”

Luke worries his lip, eyes flicking to the hall where he can hear his mum taking her shoes off. He seems to deliberate, and then nods slowly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Take me out.” He gets a devious little smile on his face. “ _If_ you get higher than a ‘B’ on your algebra test tomorrow.”

Ashton _beams_. “It’s a date!” And then he’s sprinting off, past Luke’s mum, out the door, and he’s zooming away down the street before she’s even had the chance to ask, ‘Who was that, Luke?’

-

Luke’s waiting by Ashton’s locker the next day after period four. “So?” he says conversationally. “How did you go?”

Silently, Ashton opens his locker and shoves his maths books inside. He turns to Luke with his maths test in his hand. “‘A’ minus, baby, I’m taking you on a date!”

“Awesome!” Luke giggles. “I’m so proud of you Ash!”

Ashton preens, pulling his sandwich out of his bag. “All thanks to you, Lukey. I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Well, actually,” Luke looks up at him slyly. “My parents are going out tonight. You could stay over? You know, watch a few movies, Mario Kart…I have a pool. And a spa that hasn’t been broken in yet.”

Ashton’s eyes widen. “Lucas Hemmings! Are you suggesting what I think you are? Because I’m all for it!” He smiles languidly. “I’m liking this rebellious streak you’ve been hiding from me. Anything else I should know about you?

Luke smirks, shrugging. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Ooh,” Ashton laughs, and he reaches out to run a hand down Luke’s arm, moving down to trace fingers over Luke’s palm.

There’s an irritated cough behind Luke, and Ashton looks over to see Michael tapping his foot impatiently, wanting to get into his locker. That Luke is leaning on, oh.

Luke turns his head and squeaks when he sees Michael, and he whispers a goodbye to Ashton before dashing away. He hears Michael say, “What’s his problem?” and Ashton’s chipper, ‘No idea,’ and he smiles slightly.

Luke might be ridiculously, embarrassingly ga-ga for Ashton, but Michael Clifford still scared the absolute pants off him.

It’s raining at lunch, so Luke goes up to the music rooms, only it turns out the music rooms are closed on Tuesdays, so he braves the sleet and makes a mad dash for the library. He gets a stern look for dripping on the carpet, but the librarians love him so he doesn’t get in trouble. Luke hears Ashton before he sees him, and he ducks behind a shelf so Michael doesn’t see him and try to, like, melt him with his mind powers or something.

He doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Ashton’s talking and his voice sort of commands attention. Ashton and his friends are talking about Harry’s party. Luke smiles slightly; Ashton’s invited him as his plus one.

“ _I_ have a date that night, and we’re getting shitfaced so we can fuck in his parents’ pool,” Ashton brags, and Luke chokes on his own spit, because, _fuck_ , that sounds hot. He loses the rest of the conversation, leaning against the shelf in front of him as he lets that tasty little scenario play out in his head. And then he loses his balance and topples a pile of books and everyone is suddenly staring at him.

“Whoops,” he laughs, flushing bright red. “I tried to pull a book from the bottom of the pile?”

-

Luke’s in the shower when Ashton arrives that night, and he answers the door with dripping hair and only wearing a pair of jeans with a towel around his neck. “Hi,” he says, smiling lazily.

“Hey.” Ashton drags his eyes over Luke’s chest. “Hel _lo_.”

Blushing a little under Ashton’s intense gaze, Luke opens the door a little wider. “Are you coming in? My mum left lasagne in the fridge.”

“Who am I to turn down food?” Ashton jokes, and he drags a hand over Luke’s stomach as he walks inside. Luke shivers and shuts the door, face bright as he follows Ashton down the hall.

They don’t end up eating the lasagne. The lasagne doesn’t even make it out of the fridge. Ashton gets Luke up on the counter and they’re making out again, and then Luke grabs his hand and drags him up the stairs. “I think a bed would be better for this,” Luke mumbles around Ashton’s lips.

“I completely agree,” Ashton murmurs. They pass the open door to Luke’s parents’ room. “Hey, hey Luke. Luke, just how rebellious does your rebellious streak let you get?”

Luke flicks his eyes over Ashton’s shoulder. “Well, my parent’s bed is a lot bigger than mine.”

Ashton’s grin turns shit eating. “That sounds fabulous.”

Long story short, they fuck on Luke’s parents’ bed, and then in the shower, and then they play Mario Kart and fall asleep watching SpongeBob on the late night cartoon channel. They date properly, and it’s all fine and dandy, and they lived happily ever after. The end.

No, who the fuck am I kidding. Luke’s parents decide they don’t want to go to the movies after dinner after all, and that they’d much rather spend the night with their son instead.

Ashton’s got Luke’s legs around his waist and they’re giving it all they’ve got when they hear a car drive past. “What was that?” Luke gasps, his hips canting.

“Nothing,” Ashton pants, dropping his forehead onto Luke’s shoulder. He brings a hand up to cradle the back of Luke’s head and he drags the blonde into a messy kiss. Naturally, that’s how Luke’s parents find them.

“LUCAS!” his mother bellows. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Shit!” Luke yelps, and all hell breaks loose.

In the ensuing chaos, Luke and Ashton manage to get boxers on, and Ashton grabs the rest of his clothes and literally jumps out the window. He scales the bricks down and hollers, “I’ll pick you up at seven on Friday!” as he sprints for his car.

Luke’s dad sticks his head out the window. “Come anywhere near my son again and I’ll chop your balls off!”

“Dad!” Luke growls. “Oh my god.”

Completely ignoring his parents, Luke stalks off to his own room. He locks his door and showers with My Chemical Romance blaring as loud as his speakers will go. When he gets out, there’s a text on his phone from Ashton.

_‘i’m sooo sorry :/’_ it reads. _‘pls forgive me? I really enjoyed tonight. i’ll c u 2morrow at skool. Luv ash xx’_

Smiling goofily, Luke flops down on his bed. He sends a quick, _‘It’s okay <3’ _and ‘ _I’ll see you tomorrow if I’m still alive. Love Luke xx’_ He’s probably going to get his ear shouted off at breakfast the next morning, and he’s taking bets with himself on how long his parents are going to ground him for, but then he thinks about Ashton, and he knows that he’s perfectly willing to be the bad boy if it means getting to be with him.

Luke goes to sleep smiling that night.

-

**Epilogue: He Sneaks Out The Window To Be With His Boyfriend**

After Harry’s party, they develop a system: Ashton calls Luke down with his little slide whistle, they go and get drunk, they sneak back in through the pool house, and Luke’s parents are never the wiser that he’s not the good boy he’s supposed to be.

Luke makes friends with Michael, and Michael writes a song about him, and they perform it at the school talent show and win ninety dollars apiece, which they get Ashton to spend on beer and weed. Luke’s actually really glad that his parents decided to move him. He’d be stuck by himself otherwise, and it’s no fun being naughty if there’s no one there to help you.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what the fuck that was.
> 
> UPDATE (Sept 2014): I just wanna say that I'm about to start work on a sequel to this, if anyone's interested. Just keep an eye out for a while an you never know ;P


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